


天使;

by veryqueenly



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, also another one of my abstract writings???, i guess, like the kind of fluff where you have to narrow your eyes, really subtle fluff i guess???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8623780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veryqueenly/pseuds/veryqueenly
Summary: Sometimes on nights like these, the two of you lie around somewhere and talk about all sorts of things. This is one of those nights.[College! AU] [Keith/Reader]





	

**天** **使** **;**

* * *

 

Sometimes on nights like these, when there’s nothing left for the two of you to do, you’d lie on the floor of your room and stare at the ceiling, talking about everything and nothing all at once. It doesn’t matter what you’re talking about; the two of you would always find a way to keep the conversation going.

Today is one of those times. It’s a little past three in the morning, and with tomorrow being a weekend, it’s not really a problem for the two of you to stay up as late as you could. (It’s not like the two of you had never stayed up on a weekday before, but this one’s still different. There are no consequences, no repercussions to think about.)

A few hours ago, Keith had offered to rent a film you could possibly want to watch but you’d shaken your head and refused, saying you’d much rather lie around and do nothing. And that’s what had led to your current predicament—lying on the carpeted floor with your backs against the ground, your gazes turned toward the faux universe on the ceiling that you’d put up as a decoration a few years ago.

For a while, there’s only comfortable silence between the two of you. For a moment, the only sounds you could hear are your quiet breathing, the puffs of breath going in and out of your lungs.

It’s almost as though the both of you are too preoccupied with your thoughts to even speak, almost as though the two of you are lost in your own separate worlds to be even bothered to break the silence. It’s not like the silence bothers any of you, anyway. You’ve already known each other for a long time to be even threatened by such a trivial thing, have already known each other for a long time to even feel obligated to fill such gaps.

“What are you afraid of?” Keith asks after a few beats, his voice soft as a murmur, soft as a whisper. The question is sudden that for a moment you’re taken aback, seemingly confused as to what he’d just said. You turn his words over and over in your head, almost as if in attempt to understand the question he’d just phrased.

“I don’t know,” you reply after a while, turning around to lie on your side, facing him. “I’m afraid of a lot of things.”

“Yeah, I understand,” he says, his voice growing louder with every word. His gaze remains fixed on the series of dotted stars above him, like it’s somehow the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen in his life. “But what are you afraid most?”

“Hm,” you hum, biting your lip in concentration. Another moment of silence settles between the two of you as you continue to think, seemingly contemplating on the words you’re about to say.

“Falling, I guess?” you reply a moment later, uttering the words softly in the growing silence. You absentmindedly raise a hand, reaching out toward him; your fingers trace patterns against his bare shoulders. He doesn’t stop you.

“Falling?” he echoes, curiosity evident in the way he says the words. “What’s the scary part about falling?”

“Mm,” you hum once more, seemingly in acknowledgment of his question. You continue to trace patterns against his skin until he finally moves to stop you, one of his hands reaching for your own and holding it against his. He entwines your fingers together, tightening his grip as he rests them against his stomach.

“I don’t really think falling is that scary,” you begin after a moment, your words sounding like a quiet murmur. “Falling feels good sometimes. It makes you feel carefree, relaxed, and seemingly unaware of who you are and where you are. And the air, too, feels nice. It’s cold, chilly, but it caresses your skin softly and gently, like a careful lover…”

You trail off, allowing your words to hang in the air, almost as though you’re waiting for them to sink in. A brief pause ensues between the two of you, and you take in a lungful of air before expelling it out with a deep sigh.

“Falling takes your mind off things,” you continue after a moment, your voice sounding just as soft as before. “But the thing about falling is that you don’t how long you’d stay above ground. The scariest part in falling is knowing that you’re going to have to reach the ground sometime soon and knowing there wouldn’t be anyone to catch you.”

“That makes sense,” he says after a while, nodding his head in agreement. A moment of silence settles between the two of you, and he begins rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. The action is soothing, comforting that you could feel yourself relaxing, the tensions within your muscles loosening.

“What about you?” you ask, murmuring the words softly. “What are you afraid of?”

“Losing,” he replies after a beat, uttering the words just as softly as you did. “Losing things, losing people, losing friends, losing—“he stops, suddenly, as though something has interrupted him, as though something has cut him off.

You look at him questioningly, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as you do so. “What was that?” you ask, curiosity laced in your voice. “Why’d you stop all of a sudden?”

“Something got caught in my throat,” he replies, just a little too quickly for you to believe. You narrow your eyes in suspicion. Keith has never been good with lying, and you’ve attested to that so many times to be sure of it.

“What’s that?” you ask, attempting to pry the truth out of him. He doesn’t budge however, merely shaking his head before voicing out his response. “Nothing,” he says.

 _Keith has never been any good with lying,_ you think as you allow a soft, defeated sigh to escape your lips, _but he’s an expert when it comes to hiding his feelings._

“Okay,” you say after a moment, deciding to finally let the subject go. “I’ll be here listening the moment you’re ready to talk about it, okay?”

He doesn’t say anything in response, but you feel the grip of his hand tightening against yours. A few moments of quiet pass between the two of you. His thumb still continues to rub circles against your skin, absentmindedly, distractedly.

“What do you want to do now?” you murmur, attempting to break the growing silence. Keith shakes his head in refusal. “Nothing,” he replies in a whisper. “I still don’t want to do anything.”

“Okay,” you say, shifting a bit so that you’re closer to him than before. You casually throw your free hand around him, enveloping him in a loose hug. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t say anything, and so you allow a small smile to make its way toward your lips.

Comfortable silence settles between the two of you, and you stay like that for the longest of times, not doing anything, not saying anything, and merely enjoying each other’s company, merely enjoying being in one another’s presence.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is another one of my so-called existentialist bullshit... granted, this contains more fluff than **illumina** , but still... anyways, i hope you enjoyed reading this! also, i'm gonna advertise my voltron writing blog here lol
> 
> feel free to visit me on my writing blog [here](asking-voltron.tumblr.com) (asking-voltron.tumblr.com) and send me asks, requests! (please....)


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